Humanity's savior
by Ellered
Summary: Eva x Sparda. Vergil & Dante's parents before tragedy. Something I wrote a long time ago. Sparda's background with Dumary island and his protection over a human female. Before the birth of the twins. T for language.


CATEGORY: **Devil May Cry**  
TITLE:**Humanity's Saviour **  
**Characters are owned by Capcom**  
PAIRING: **Eva/Sparda **

Notes:I wrote this almost a year ago, and I never thought of Eva as a devil hunter, but thanks to Laryna, she wrote a story on Eva that presented her like Lady's status. So, perhaps I still believe Eva as more gentlewoman and strong, but the idea of demon hunter is still extremely appealing. So I'm going to place this up on ffnet because it has the appropriate rating.

**Summary: **It has been told in tales of lore, that Sparda was once an angel of God and so divine he was that he loved the sire that birthed him. That God created him with the purest whitest wings that spanned out like the heavens and clouds: magnificent to look at and if he were a man, he would have had a heart of Gold.

Another scenario, in which I will explore, is that he was once a man. A man so deeply mysterious as his emotional turmoil that made him become the devil he was. He became the melancholy self that brought him disease and cursed his mortality. He cursed the gods who created him and made a pact with the devil. As was Faust and those predecessors that told us of their fates, he was the man who suffered so deep within his soul. Sparda suffered cruelly because he wanted immortality.

Because the devils that plagued him night and day offered him a power that would rival the heavens.

_O'Sparda, which was given to you the sword of blood and power unlike any other, you will have a second chance at life, but there is a price to pay. _

For the sins of the father will never be forgotten.

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_

Where are you going, Gilgamesh?  
The immortality you seek you will not find.  
When the gods created man, they allotted death,  
Keeping immortality for themselves. 

_

Eat and drink, Gilgamesh; dance, be merry  
Bathe in clear water and put on fresh clothes;  
Cherish the little child that holds your hand  
And let your wife find love in your bosom;  
For these are the joys of mankind.

--GILGAMESH, Sumerian, 2000 B.C.

* * *

"I know, he did the same thing." 

Those were the last words he said to her. Lucia threw the coin into the air and caught it. The images on the coin itself showed the two sides of man. Twins. She had heard the low roar of the motorcycle and in her haste and excitement, after exclaiming that Sparda did indeed come back, she raced down the room.

How she got inside the establishment was through Dante's partner, Trish. She was happy to see Lucia and the two women spoke together over Dante and Sparda. Trish could very well have the memories of both her enslavement by Mundus and the memories of someone else. Someone who was very dear to Dante.

The manifestation of Dante's precious mother smiled serenely at the red haired Creole demon female. They were so alike in many ways. Not in appearance, but in their affiliation to be freed from becoming a puppet. Trish's experience was more pronounced than the other. While Lucia pretty much spent most of her life with the clan of Vie de Marli, she was only able to recognize the most important aspect of humankind :_ their weaknesses, emotions and vulnerability. _It was this that Lucia took the cause by way through the guidance of Matier.

_Was that Dante coming back home? _  
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**Circa, before the twins birth**.

"Sparda, I can't stay here. It's too dangerous."

Eva's voice was near frantic and she was hardly ever frantic, but for the first time in her life, she knew that if she stayed around, she was putting the endangerment of her babies on high risk. This brought on a fierce protectiveness in her.

Sparda looked down at his human lover, his light blue eyes flared with concern and passion. He took her by the shoulders, "I've arranged a place where you shall go. It's the safest and where they can't find you."

"No. I can't go there. Not without you." She shook her head. She was being unreasonable, but as a woman expecting, her emotions felt raw and on edge. Her tears streamed down pale cheeks and her hand strayed to her mid section where the bulge of her pregnancy stared at him. Sparda reached down to place his hand over her smaller one in a gesture of protectiveness.

"They will protect you and I will remain here. They want_ me,_ because I've betrayed them and they don't know anything about you or your condition."

_Was he lying to himself? _Sparda briefly closed his eyes and the sight of his strong woman in tears made him wince. It was something he was not used to. Seeing her in this vulnerable state, as human as she was and as loving as any one could ever be to him, he felt for the first time, the duality of what it means to be helpless and in rage. He had to protect his woman and his family. The faint pulses of the two heartbeats from his lady's midsection beat loudly in his ear.

Eva gave him a hard stare.

"They know about me. Stop fooling yourself and you don't need to protect me from that. Shame on you, Sparda." She whispered. "You know me better than that."

Then backed away, her cobalt eyes still shimmered with tears, though her lips revealed a shaky smile, "I'll go there, only because I believe you." And on impulse reached up to touch his strong jaw, his head turned to her soft hands to kiss them.

Eva's voice pleaded with him, "Promise me one thing. Come back to me when you're done."

"I'll come back to you, I promise you that." He leaned down to kiss the side of her soft lips and Eva in return reached up to touch the silver strands of his slicked back hair, the feel of them so feathery soft.

After they had parted with their kisses, he said, "By way of getting you there, some of my friends will come by to bring you there and you have to be in disguise. My kind has always known how to spot their victims. It's in the nose you see." He playfully said as he tapped his straight aquiline nose. "And yes, with some, their eyes and ears."

"Who are they? These friends of yours?" She inquired. Eva had backed away from him and started to pack her belongings: a strong leather belt wrapped over her shoulder to lay against the side of her hip, secured there with a buckle and on its strap end a holster where a gun sat in.

She scooped up her shells and tucked them into her red mantle where she kept hidden many small weapons and small things such as holy water and jeweled crucifixes.

He watched her, admiring how she managed to be so meticulous with her choice of weapons and that though her condition does not permit her to do crazy stunts as before, she was still determined to keep the hunter side of herself to protect not only herself, but her babies.

"They're from an island called Dumary, on Vie de Marli, somewhere around the region of South Africa and they're mostly human, yes, but they possess the blood of the devils. My kind." He waited to see her expression.

Already wrapped up in her velvet red cloak, she looked up at him playfully, "So they've got powers you say? Like yours?" she cocked a blond brow at him and reached up to pull her long bright tresses away from inside her mantle.

"Something like that, but not quite like me. They are human too, just with a bit of devil's blood in them. Nothing like me…." His deep voice faltered, eyeing his woman with love.

"No one can be like you, Sparda." She teased, "Besides your own sons."

"Boys? I'm to have boys." He reached up to push back his silver strands, his manner seemingly proud and cocky, "Did I marry a witch too?"

"Depends if your definition of witch doesn't include burning at the stake or those you find in Macbeth's vision." Eva ended with a playful glint in her blue eyes.

They stared at each other for a long moment, she because she was afraid for him, and he because he loved her so much it hurt. The noise from below interrupted them.

"They're here. You're ready right?"

"Let's get a move on, Sparda."

XX

Eva sat inside the cabin. She looked out of her window to steal a last glimpse of her man. Her devil. She can't help but think that he looked like any other man as he stood there at the dockside; his light sapphire eyes stared out to her, standing next to other men.

The silver strands of his hair blew in the wind, giving him a careless look. The pale purple suit he wore would look ridiculous on any man, but he made it look noble and regal. Tears stung the back of her eyes as she wondered at their fate and her hand flew to the window to touch the cold glass. She traced the outlines of his body and face with those fingers until he was just a dark dot.

She knew a little of his past. He was once an immortal and he gave it up for her.

Her hands stole back to caress the roundness of her pregnancy, feeling the kicks and movements of her twin boys. She gave a small smile, shaking her head. The happy thoughts gave her preoccupation that her boys were going to be just like their father.

Sparda on the other hand watched the ship leave until it became a small pinpoint on the wavy black ocean. The distant moon gave the darkness only enough light to shine the water like a jagged line.

It disappeared over the horizon where it would take his woman to the primitives of southern Africa.

He grinned as the sound of his old comrades came from behind. The shuffling of their approach made him bring out the large sword that shone with blood and the light reflected off its sharp edge. His companions that were left behind took out their knives as well. The men from Vie De Marli specialized in knives and crossbows and with some expert skills; they could take down demons that nearly rivaled his own.

"Just in time, gentlemen." He whispered before slicing his demonic victim in half with the sword. In what seemed to be a hundred of them, puppets came at them with their arms swinging, grazing some of the men with their scythes and knives.

The strings that held them disappeared as one could look up to see where the strings were being held up; as if invisible hands were from the gods above.

Sparda knew better. In nights like this when the moon was just a distant star and the sky was as black as the shadow, the air churned with cold stillness, demons would come like marching soldiers.

"What?" he chuckled, kicked off the offending puppet from him, the strength of that kick powerful enough to push the puppet into the others, exploding them in a heap, "Did Mundus decide that bringing these bloody puppets would allow me to be distracted?"

He smirked and with narrowed eyes, he grounded out, "Was he trying to insult me by sending marionettes? I thought better of him."

Pretending to wipe off his chin; Sparda's light blues roguishly looked around and as if his great enemy were there and yelled out with a derisive snort.

"What's the matter, Mundus? You afraid of sending your best? Oh wait." He chuckled again, "I _was _your best."

But then the thought of Eva brought him a sober effect, which emited a curse from his lips and his gaze quickly turned to the horizon, "That protection seal better have worked or by the devils……"

He continued to slash and hack at the next puppet, pushing them away while his comrades sliced through the aggressive attacks of marionettes. Their arms fell like broken wooden dolls as they fell heap by heap on the ground.

The sound of what could be deceived as an earthquake came from behind and everyone, including his enemies stumbled on the ground. They all tried to stand and roll from the movement of the ground. Though the ground itself did not break open to create a canyon, Sparda narrowed his eyes as he gave a sidelong glance at the newcomer.

"Ahh, so it's to be after all." He mused aloud, his body tensed. The wind brought the smell of the ocean and blood. The devil with the silver hair and half cocky grin gave a reply loud enough for the new enemy to hear.

"I didn't think he'd send you, old friend."

The enemy with its large body clothed in fur growled menacingly, giving some of Sparda's allies a bit of startle. Some on the ground began to move back and the others, much braver stood up with their hands tensed on their weapons.

"Sparda!" the ape-like tower of a beast growled out, "Your betrayal was the last!"

"Yeah yeah, tell me something I don't know, you big buffoon." Sparda taunted, "You going to talk more stupid or shall we dance?"

The demon-ape charged at him, bringing his long hairy arm down with one swipe, it hit the pavement with a bang that resounded the air. The ocean itself moved from the impact.  
The devil with the purple jacket moved with grace and ease as he dodged all the attacks, bringing his sword down on its enemy, sliced its' arm with damage and then with another toss, brought the sword in a whirlwind. It glided through the air, moved like lightning to the ape's gaping features. The target was a bullseye. It lodged in-between the eyes.

The noises were loud enough that Eva from her sleep awoke from the tiny cabin she was in. Her heart hammered in her chest and instead of feeling afraid, she grabbed her guns from under her pillow. She reached over to tie her bright tresses in a knot so they wouldn't get in the way and checked her bullets. With quick movement, she took a peek at her window, pushing aside the drapes.

What met her was an eye that stared into the cabin and she momentarily drew back and held the gun at the window. Her breathing increased, but she got as far as clicking the revolver back. She never did pull the trigger. What stopped her was that with reason, the creature with its eye large enough to look in at her would be able to come inside her cabin if she shot at the glass.

Eva half smiled, a playful look in her eye, "So, I guess time for plan B."

Sparda on the other hand was doing well, bringing down his foe larger than him to the ground while the others, his comrades were still sparring with the marionettes. His sword was brought back to him as like a boomerang and it fitted well within the grasp of his masculine hands.

The giant creature growled out incoherent words in devil language and Sparda understood him, "You made a pact with Mundus and you got what you wanted. Why did you turn from us? You had everything! Immortality and the glory of power! You are a fool, Sparda, a fool to throw it away for these measly weak humans."

Sparda made a derisive snort and lifted his chin, "Right. Pact." His eyes narrowed dangerously, "Haven't you figured it out yet, old _friend_? Mundus doesn't keep treaties too well."

"He gave you everything! You rebelled against your own kind! Humans have only given you nothing but disappointment! We were your family!" The large demon repeated again, his garbled words thundered out as dark tainted blood spurted from his mouth, "Immortality and glory! Why!"

Before bringing his sword one last time to make impact with his enemy's eyes, he said as a matter of factly, _"Why?"_ He whispered with a deadly calm, "You aren't fit to understand. But I'll give you this before killing you. I wanted _my soul back."  
_  
And the sound of the blade made a final chunk into the gorilla-demon's eyes.

Demon carcass had always a terrible stink to them. He wrinkled his aristocratic nose and with practiced ease, took out the white gloves that were hidden in his dark purple garb. His companions looked a little worse for wear. The fallen enemy had made a noisy thunk as it hit the ground, which created a sensation of vibrations that caused a small tidal wave.

Judging from the time that has passed, he sensed that she was far and well away from the dangers of these vibrations.

He called out with a warning, pushed himself off the ground and with a swift lift, jumped and evaded the rush of water pouring in.

But not before he had managed to steal his enemies' soul and he was getting his strength back. _Ahh, just like old times._

The lesser demons had no spirit so he hardly bothered with theirs.

The higher demons were like _pate' _to him. Sweet, delicious demons blood coursing through his veins and they submitted to the superiority of Sparda's strength. How many times has he proved himself worthy that even the Prince of Darkness himself has been _envious_ of it?

The push and pull of the wind, the electrical currents that were invisible, and the rush of their souls that went inside his, combining them with such a union that he could but only gasp aloud.

His comrades, many of them had survived, but it was a long and arduous battle. _His majesty of the dark realm _was a relentless son of a bitch, but Sparda enjoyed it, enjoyed the fight... An army of many leveled demons, which created a nice diversion for his new nifty toys: Luce and Ombra.

The light and the darkness.

Sparda felt like new. The more powerful demonic souls he took in, he could in this earthly realm gain his strength back and keep his power. _Keep it coming, my adversary, because you feed me with superb victuals. _Certainly some were not even worth the salt, but the anger in him grew each passing day as they were not only after the humans, but after his woman.

_**flashback**_

_He searched his memory of her,_ the times where they would meet and become close friends. She was his best friend before she finally fell in love with him. Eva did not always fall victim to his charms. Her mind was a magnificent thing, focused and relentless, yet fragile and caring.

_Father!_

His mind could only search the fragments of buried emotions,

_Father! Why do I feel this way? Why does my soul weep?_

But none answered him.

They left him to the bowls of hell, in league with one of his own.

And he searched the fond memories of her as his vision opened up the scenery before him.

Sparda held his breath.

The vision before him was what he _remembered_ those aching yawning years ago. The mantle of Mother Nature's glory. The things in life he had forgotten centuries ago.

Snow had covered the ground like a white blanket and illuminated the midnight sky. A dazzling array of dead leaves slowly fell from the highest trees. His foot prints made tracks on the cold floor and creatures paused to curiously watch the devil in his royal garb take each step with purposeful care.

The arena he saw had a slight incline, a few fallen logs, now padded with snow, scattered about amongst the trees; small, uncaring creatures buzzed around the newly fresh snow and a few birds flew in unison around his silver head, while other animals scurried by his snow buried boots.

His silver eyebrow without the monocle lifted questioningly, amused at the display of such innocent things.  
The hours had passed and the sun had begun its decent, a brilliant sunset blanketing the sky, specs of orange and black showcasing its beauty.

Sounds of the approaching night penetrated through his mind and the glorious union of every living thing of the earth made him remember.

Then the music came. Sparda had closed his eyes for long moments. But as the siren's song came to his ears, the silver blue eyes snapped open.

There was the sound of sweet melody floating in from the southeast. Damn. He thought he'd been immune to the feminine charms of her presence. It was the cause of his mutiny, probably. Once the demon gates were closed, all his powers began to wane. For the first thousand years, he didn't sense its loss, for it burned bright.

All those long lonely years, he felt lost and immersed himself through the streets of humankind, felt their tears and their sadness. Felt every possible feeling, from the joys of birth, to the agonies of death.

These feelings were so strong that he felt he could not endure them all. If Hell was painful, because he was under the rule of the Prince of Darkness. He was not prepared for the onslaught of emotional turmoil that came at him when he walked among them.

These humans. How they weep with such passion.

They were complicated beings. So much so that he had begun to feel the desires he thought were dormant in his old home.  
Of course, he had met _her._

He would never believe in a God. Those philosophies were abandoned when he fell from _his_ kingdom and the angelic wings were stripped, only to be replaced by the blackest stain, metallic to the touch, electric shockwaves passed through them, and he could feel its blinding pain.

_"If the gods can either take away evil from the world and will not, or, being willing to do so, cannot; or they neither can nor will, or lastly, they are both able and willing. If they have the will to remove evil and cannot, then they are not omnipotent. If they can, but will not, than they are not benevolent. If they are neither able nor willing, then they are neither omnipotent nor benevolent. Lastly, if they are both able and willing to annihilate evil, how does it exist?"_

Still, would he let his guard down? The corners of his lip twitched.

Sometimes, the best demons were the ones that were able to let your guard down.

He felt for his guns at his side and tensed. _Trickery?_

It wasn't that he disbelieved it was _her_, but because he readied for the number of Demons that would assail him at any moment, since they knew, damn them, they knew what would bind him, but the music that continued to come in with the breeze was gentle, like the humming melody of violin strings and harps, the high sweet pitch of a flute, introduced sounds like a tumbled wineglass and he stood there, half numb, still and anxious.

_Was she back?_

Darkness and light followed her and she let the doors to his world creak open, brought the light into his eyes. The silver blue of those eyes roamed from her black and red leather boots, the heels she so easily walked with, to the long legs she owned.

Observing her attire, the red appealing mantle that covered her body, the brisk wind whipping towards her to show off her figure made him swallow, the pull of his once dormant heart constricted.

_Why was he so attracted to her so much?_ It was as if something in him had awakened. He knew why, but he still could not wrap his mind around it or rather he wanted to keep her mysterious.

Blood flowed through his mind as he memorized every contour of her face.

The soft planes of her youthful beauty, classical and more beautiful than Helen of Troy. She was as inquisitive as Pandora. Yet loyal and talented as the lovely Penelope who waited with a sharp mind to keep her admirers at bay, waited for long years for one man. How Eva reminded him of these women.  
Sparda's eyes scanned the bright cloak, which wrapped itself around her shapely thighs and he stopped himself from embarrassing her.

She was blushing.

"Pardon my rudeness, my lady."

The woman nodded then cleared her throat, "I have something for you that I know would make you pleased. If you would follow me?"  
Her last words were in a gesture of a reluctant question. The golden strands of her hair sparkled in the night.

"Oh?" He raised a sleek white brow, "I am your willing servant."

As she smiled her winning smile, she gave him one of those teasing looks before she turned her back on him to allow him to follow her.

He painfully remembered how he could not focus very well that day.


End file.
